Rise of the Captain
by Formyeyesonly
Summary: Humanity had a trump card in the form of geniuses, monsters, and those willing to do whatever it takes. Now Hange Zoe wants to break one more barrier: the gift of Superhumanity. When comes the looming threat of chaos, terrorists, and enemy Shifters, can the First Superhuman, the Captain, save the day? AU after the Coup. Total rewrite of Captain Mashinga: The First Superhuman.
1. Chapter 1

A.N: Good day, everybody! Welcome to the inaugural chapter! A few things first:

This is actually a grand re-write of an earlier now cancelled story I tried writing before called Captain Mashinga: The First Superhuman. I honestly thought it was a pile of crap after the 7th chapter because of me not knowing enough about the AoT storylines and taking too many liberties with the characters. Another thing was I felt I was too constrained with the superhero theme of the story.

If you want to get a broader idea on what I mean, by all means check out the original story. Just keep in mind only a few things from that story will carry on to this one. The plot will be quite different.

The setting takes place a little bit after Christa/Historia ascends to the throne after a coup, but before the expedition into Wall Maria.

As for why I decided to re-write this story in spite of my negative outlook on the original, its because I never left it. I wanted to faithfully finish at least the main story and be happy with it, and it wouldn't stop nagging at me. Think of it has that itch you just can't scratch no matter how long your nails are.

As for the rhythm this will be updated, I want it to be every week but I am in school, I work, and I do other things besides put myself in front of a computer, so hold that with a grain of salt. I am gunning for every week but don't quote me.

Disclaimer: Isayama owns everything. I own nothing.

Chapter 1

Now-

It's a new tradition of his, the Captain's: at the end of the day when the sun begins to set, he climbs up those rocky well-carven stairs up through the tower along Wall Rose. That little path had become a little more cramped since but he didn't mind. A small walk and a leap, and there a small wooden table, a few chairs, and a teapot is there to greet him.

He would sit there and just watch the sun set. His friends, who have looked at him a little differently each day since his return, would often join him. Many times they'd elect to drink tea as well, others just came for the company. Some either attempt to spike the pot or bring their own brew (some is usually Connie).

Somedays it could be as small as two and some days as big as seven.

Tonight there is only one. The sun has almost set. No one's coming tonight, and he knew it. Too much has happened since he got back, and not directly his fault. Circumstances and equations really are to blame. His existance posed a challenge to anyone who stood against him or by him.

After all, he's not nescessarily human anymore. He didn't see it that way. He was the guy who made a speech about another friend of his who fell into a similar problem, though with more cannons facing him and the spite of an entire people. Only the latter seemed relevant to the Captain.

This day was particularly daunting; those seven had been through too much: identity, handicaps, responsibility, and despair. Friendships and Camaraderie rarely survive these things. Yet, he pondered to himself whilst sipping on the lonely hot liquid with a hint of lime, do they not become stronger with each passing hardship? If they can all survive this, surely no task can be insurmontable. Without those seven, he always had those two, they've been through everything for too long; having to depend on each other for years and relying on each other with everything.

 _I wonder,_ a cutting voice pierced from the hippocampus, _if my friend ever came back._

A single year...it had been a single year since everything began, since everything changed for him and for everyone. He leans against his unsheathed fist in his arm chair, another sip. The memories went through his mind like a slideshow. It's true he had become more dutiful. He needed to. It wasn't just a single corp he was a part of anymore; those days had sailed long ago.

He drinks again, and twists the cup around in the air.

The 104th's anniversary is tomorrow night. A big celebration is being planned. There's no planned expedition, no investigation on his end, just a small tedious patrol around Sheena. He knows the place like the back of his shield now, laying against his chair.

The stars have betrayed their locations though some still conceal themselves.

He smiled in anticipation. _"I wouldn't miss that for the world."_ He immediately began thinking about preparations, gifts, and other little things he could give to his friends. Some reminder that their friend is still with them and hasn't forgotten them. He clearly didn't, though he hasn't been good at translating it. Individual gifts could be easy, but a little too easy. He looked into his cup, some tea still left. His reflection came back at him. His body vastly different; his face the same, a slight ripple.

 _"That's it!"_ That new hobby of his, he never really told anyone about it. The woman formerly known as Krista found out and Mikasa suspected it from the colours on his naked fingers one time. He already had the perfect one in mind.

He finished his tea, the sun extinguished for the night, and with a sudden prick to the neck, his consciousness surrendered.

Then-

A turbulent event had just transpired; the fall of authority, independence, and for others a new hope that things will get better, in other words:

"The King is dead, long live the Queen!" Connie breaks open the first keg of spirits with an axe, immediately spilling the first contents of a virgin shindig. It's a good thing many others have already taken their own bottles and pitchers.

"Is this really the time to celebrate? We still need to retake Wall Maria."

"Oh come on, Eren," a toothy grin met the confused face, taking a glass and ripping an arm-sized hole into it, "gotta take our victories where we can, and this is a big one." He handed the glass to Eren, who shook his head.

"Even if I wanted to, I'm exhausted. I think I'll go to bed early tonight."

A sinful smirk crossed his mind. "Well alright, go on to bed then, I guess Jean was right about you."

Without a moment's hesitation, Eren disrupted his passage and gave Connie his full attention. "What did he say?"

"You really don't want to know, buddy." Connie continued filling glasses along a table, never making eye contacting to the clearly aggravted Jaeger.

"Tell me."

Smugness overtook him. "Nothing really, just how a low born farm boy like you couldn't handle any of the Rosian Redwines. Which I happen to have." He pointed to his right where several bottles sat, imported from some kindly donations and a little royal pull. Krista was Krista, you can change the name but you can't change the girl. And this was the kind of charity many could get used to.

Eren took the wine and immediately tried to track down Jean. "Horseface! Where are you?"

The sober entertainment for the evening has been provided. Connie turned his attention back to his brief connsieurship. A fine bartender would he make. A fine tavern keeper, he would make. Perhaps when all the Titans are dead. He heard the pitter patter of foodsteps slowly walk towards him. "Hey Sasha, did you get the meat?"

"Didn't we already have a big dinner at the palace?" Connie looked behind him, blue eyes met him instead of brown.

"Hey, Armin. Remember she couldn't control herself so they barred her from the meat? She got some after for this special occasion with supervision, of course. No way I'd trust Sasha with boxes full of meat. Care for some liquid courage?" Channeling his inner Vanna White, Connie introduced his variety of goods to Armin.

"I'll live," he looked a little to the right and saw the festivities: a strange sight to behold as young MP's and Scouts exchanged stories and laughed, some consuled others who had feared they lost too much in this war. A change of scenary but very fitting for the world they wanted. Though if that was too drastic a change, Eren and Jean were already duking it out in the form of a heated wine drinking competition. Perhaps it was fatigue or coping, but Armin could feel the insults coming from the both of them.

"Your handiwork?"

Connie shrugged. "I needed some entertainment and I forgot my guitar at the barracks. Be good for the two of them; get their anger out." He returned to filling glasses up.

"Someone's going to kill you."

"What makes you say that?"

"Those two are going to get hammered tonight just to one-up each other: Eren's too proud to fail and Jean would never let Eren beat him at anything. So guess who will have to take care of Eren?"

"You're the best buddy."

Armin shakes his head. "Mikasa. She'll want to know what happened and..."

And that point, Connie did the scariest thing to Armin when faced with the threat of Mikasa: laugh. "Don't sweat it, man. Who do you think is supervising Sasha?"

"Still, Connie, she'll find out. Maybe not tonight, but Eren will bring you up, and Jean will defend himself."

A cold wet hand met shoulder on a fine sewn layer. "I'll cross that bridge when we get there. Tonight is a night we burn bridges and build...uhhhhh...bigger bridges!" Connie took a glass, and thrusted the transparent mallet into the sky with victory and triumph. "To independence, to peace, and to victory over the Titans! A toast to our future victories!"

A unianimous chorus erupted from the venue, "To Victory!" chanted the unified army besides Jean and Eren, whose competition mutated into an impromptu arm-wrestling match, interrupted by Eren cursing the Titans from under his breath. Everyone chugged their drinks without coordination. Connie nearly choked on his, coughing. "Shit!"

"Are you alright?"

Connie gives a toothy smile and a thumbs up. "Perfect, man. Went down the wrong tube."

Armin noticed the axe and broken keg. "Wood in the beer?"

"Adds a kick to it." Connie puts the half drunk, partly spilled glass on the table and left towards the second keg. "Could ya help me out, if you got the time?"

"Do you have a tap? It's an angular L-shaped..." Armin stopped, he forgot who he was talking to. "Like a sink?"

"Quit joking, Armin. I know what a sink tap looks like. I don't know where it is, must've missplaced it somewhere."

 _"Beer with wood shards; I should help him."_ Armin began examining the room around the makeshift bar: a large inverted U-shaped stand with a small opening to the right protected a large table filled with drinks and several kegs, one broken and dripping. The tap wasn't on top of any of the kegs nor the stand. It wasn't inside the glasses. If anyone took one, they'd point it out. There's no noticeable bulge in Connie's pants; there wern't many wearing their uniforms right now like Connie, but they didn't leave much to the imagination. And his jacket?

"Did you leave it in your jacket by any chance?"

He turned around quizzical like Armin asked him if the sky is blue. "You kidding?! I thought about that but Sasha insisted I leave it with her." At that moment, he had reached enlightenment as new knowledge slithered into his mind. "Oh yeah! I was gonna wait til she got the..."

"OWWW! Mikasa!? Come on!" *Thud*

Armin and Connie reacted to the door. A pleading Sasha in agonizing pain begging Mikasa to let her into the treasure trouve of goodies inside. "No."

"Then...then...I'm not helping you carry it." She crossed her arms and turned away.

"Okay." Sasha forgot who she's talking to; Mikasa, with mere effort, took the handle and dragged the cache to the mock kitchen , not before stopping by Eren and Jean's contest.

"Eren, would you like to help me carry this? It's too long for me to pull properly."

At that moment of weakness and before Eren could dismiss her, Jean felt a stinging sensation leaking down his natural crevice. His hand fell to the ground sequentially like the blood.

"Never call me an eternal cow again!" He tuned away from a prone Jean and towards his "sister." "Why can't you pull it by yourself?"

"Please, Eren. I need your help."

"Alright," he looked back down at Jean, "and don't forget, your treat, right?"

Jean nodded, trying fruitlessly to hide his reddish hues from the girl he's trying so desperately to get over. It's a shame the bruises decorated his torso.

"Let's go." He lifted his end of the crate and followed Mikasa to the kitchen unbeknowst to them, a stationary Armin watched the incident. Normally, and he himself took note of the absurdy of his behavior,would have stepped in to mediate the two rivals, or exceptionally took point of Mikasa's change in behavior: she would've never asked Eren for help she felt she could do herself; she's done a lot of things differently since Eren obtained the coordinate ability, not noticable unless you know her conventionally actions; the little things only those closest to her would notice.

Tonight, Armin took notice of their strength; the capability of their bodies. Eren is the "saviour" of humanity and Mikasa is a military prodigy. As much as Armin takes comfort in his intellectual abilities, there is always the small part of him that tugs on his brain, whispering to his ear, "not good enough." Some days it never bothers him, other days it does.

All he did was stand and watch as Jean picked himself up, wiped the blood from his nose, and mumble to himself: cursing at Jeager again for another peeve, at himself for falling for a woman who already had her unrequited John, or at her for choosing him, Armin couldn't tell.

Too much noise everywhere tonight: MPs, former MPs turned Scouts, and Scouts enjoying the evening with noticable absences from the higher-ups; no way Levi would dare step into this filth, and Hange took no time to go to her lab for something. He thought about going to Erwin and discuss plans for retaking Wall Maria but he could already hear Erwin telling him to go and enjoy a hard earned victory. Of course, there was always...

"Yo, Armin! Earth to Armin!"

"Yeah?"

Sasha cut in. "I told you he wasn't asleep."

"Some people sleep with their eyes open."

"Whatever, you know what you owe me and I expect it when me and Armin get back."

"Wh-what?"

Connie clarified to him. "See, I need to keep an eye on the bar, now that the tap's back, but we're still a little low on whiskey. Sasha knows where and I need two able-bodied buddies to go up to the wall and grab some."

"Oh sure." Armin cracked a smile.

"Race ya there, Armin!" Sasha galloped her way outside and Armin began to follow suit, until Connie grabbed him by the arm.

"Hey, are you seriously alright? You turned into a statue for a little while there, something on your mind?"

"I appreciate it, but it's alright. Just tend to the drinks."

Connie seemed a little disappointed for a moment. He quickly smiled and prepared to make his way back. "Well if you change your mind, you're humble host will be here to give an ear out. And about time too!" It took him five minutes to notice the long line of patrons wanting his wares.

"It's only through here!" Sasha's yelled out ecstatically through the columns, going up a mysterious staircase up to the ramparts.

"Have we ever been up here before?"

"I have. It's a pretty quiet place if you wanna get some shut eye or a private feast." When they managed to reach the top of the wall, Armin saw the true treasure that bestowed them: a perfect view of the moon looking down at him, stars as clear as daylight. Too easy to get yourself lost and forget what world you're on, and how long you may have.

"Noticed the view, huh?"

"It's spectacular. No one comes up here?"

She shook her head. "No one from my experience. Not even Levi's been up here. If he did, we'll never hear the end of it."

"Is it dirty up here?"

"Not on the wall. Inside that shed there I'd bet the dust bunnies have dust bunnies." The shed looked older than the rest of the wall. There is a special lock that kept the door shut from anyone. Some rust has ordained it. "I tried jimmying it, but nothing. Know anybody good with a pick?"

"Afraid not. Why not Connie?"

"Have you spoke to Connie? I ask him for help and I'll never hear the end of it."

"He's not still like that, is he?"

"Lucky you, with your own loyal kliq." She motioned towards the barrels leaning against the side of the open archway. "Help me carry some."

Armin prepared to carry the barrel of whiskey next to Sasha's, who already lifted hers. It's heavier than it looks. Armin almost loses balance. _Not now!_ He thought to himself.

"Be careful!"

"You're not going to try and drink it before we get there?"

He couldn't see but Sasha was clearly giving him a look. "I don't care about liquor...although..."a large smile creeped on her face "...I heard from Hitch you can marionate steak and chops and beef and so many other things with it!" She began to drool in anticipation. "Let's hurry this up, Armin! We have dinner to snatch!"

Armin wondered how he was going to survive the night, slowly keeping the pace on Sasha who can somehow remain so agile without dropping her barrel once. He wanted to spend the evening a little differently than perform errands for Connie, but he also figured when would be the next time he and everyone else could relax like this? It kept his mind off of a lot of things and it stopped him from going back down to the basement, not that he didn't find solace in it. Perhaps he'll enjoy himself.

Well, when proposed with a theory, whatever else is there but to test it out?

Elsewhere-

Somewhere else within the Scout Regiment's main base across from the massive shindig of Dionysian beauty, a seperate party has formed amongst the higher-ups. There are no drinks or meats or guitars to play, but for Hange and her reluctant partner-in-crime, Mobilt, it was a party of discovery; a celebration of new knowledge.

A test is being done. Mobilt had spent the last few hours formulating and producing several catalysts for the experiments to go underway. A dangerous plan and extremely unorthodox. Along the farthest rims of Wall Rose lived several former Marians and Rose farmers. A while after the fall a new plague began to decimate the land: Catalac. A basic name from a basic tongue. it worked quite differently from a regular plague: similar to the black plague, it left their victims with pulsating black spots all over their body, an insensitivity to external stimuli, and paleness of the skin. It thrives in filthy conditions: contaminated water, poor livestock, poor hygiene.

There was one big difference Mobilt found out: no one died of Catalac. Why? The reason is why he and Hange are using a non-contagious form as a catalyst: it is a retrovirus: it works backwards into the body, infects its biological essence, and invades. Hange likened it to an enemy Titan Shifter like Braun or Hoover. No wonder why she wanted to play with it.

"And done." Hange stormed in with a large stored pot filled with blood; Titan blood.

"At long last, Mobilt, we are on the precipice of something great! Are you as excited as I am!?"

"Hange, please, let's just see if this works first before you get ahead of yourself."

"Have it your way, kiddo! How can I not be excited when we're taking a huge risk! We could get infected or we could make something no man dared think possible, could you imagine it?"

Mobilt grabbed some of the tubes as well as the blood labelled with all of the names of surviving Scout members. Like a lightning storm crashing into a tree, Hange grabbed the first one she could and prepared the first catalyst. Mobilt wrote out what she was doing, talking out loud in the process.

"We first applied the catalyst, a non-contagion form of the plague Catalac, into experimental samples of blood of members of the Regiment. This is to make sure the Titan blood can mix with it in a homogenous rate. The first subject is..."

"Oh poo! Mine didn't do anything! That sucks."

"...Hange Zoe. Nothing happened when the Titan blood was introduced. We will store hers, as well as any others without immediate changes for the next day with 6 hour rotations to monitor alterations."

"Not even Jaeger's had anything? He's already both!"

"What would that do to a Shifter if it worked!?"

"Combine the two forms? Make him have perfect control over his Titan form?"

"Or it could permanently transform him!"

"Oh darling, nothing ventu-"

Mobilt groaned. He's heard that phrase more than he's been alive.

Several minutes pass and so far nothing has altered.

The Ackerman's didn't have a single change, the former Krista found nothing, nor their Commander had a change, though Hange wagered he would never want to know even if it did.

One blood sample changed: the blood became smokey and the red thick boiling blood of a Titan fused perfectly with the calm red vacuous blood of a human. Hange began salivating and hyperventiliating. Mobilt sweat.

Mercury snuck into her veins as she prepared a slide and leapt gracefully to a microscope to examine the material, her excitement rose greater and greater with each passing second, she forgot her glasses were in front of her face. "Mobilt! The particles, the cells, the bonds..str-onger! They became stronger! We need to perform more experiments! Whose blood was it!"

Mobilt looked cautiously at the name of the blood labelled on the tray.

"Arlert, Armin."

"Yes! Him! How much blood do we have left?"

The Scouts do biweekly blood tests on every scout member as a medical percaution, and very much so a security one. Titan Shifter blood acts slightly different from human blood. It's important to check these things. "This was a small sample, we probably have a litre or two more."

"Excellent. When can we bring him in?"

"Wait, Hange, we still need to perform more tests on his blood before we can test it out on him. We're not sure how much of the catalyst is required, or if it'll just give him plague."

Hange pondered for a moment and agreed. "You're right. Let's do that first." She then thrust her hand in the air, scaring Mobilt ten feet off the ground. "In two days! He comes here! Got that?"

He took a breath and made his way back up. "Yes, Hange."

"Beisdes all those kids are having their fun. Let them have it."

He nodded and remembered the party. He wondered how much liquor they had left. A keg or two sounds very appropiate.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Now -

Blues maidens, their clothes shined through the night sky. He watched them dance along the pitch black stage with careful grace. Perfectly moved: no bumps; they knew their space.

A shooting star moves through each and every one of them in the distance. They celebrate. The star moves.

An opera plays someplace else, the voices resound a deep baritone against one another preaching a fable against a parable of some distant land seperated from them by time and distance. Their wars are over; they must be over. Nothing left but to dance and sing and bring in the solstice.

There is hope in the unvierse.

No red streak grazed across the maidens with no fear in their movements; no dismemberments nor a sense of treachery, no need to raise a fist out of indignation for an unfeeling enemy. No need for paranoia against a friend hiding in some hut, telling secrets in the space stars.

There is only the dance.

The Voyeur can't remember where he was: the same high tower he sits on watching the blankness with the natural scents of lime and honey.

A large green meadow exploding in life, grass blades do naught for harm, a soft pillow. Was it against a large tree bark, supported by a branch?

Was where ever mattered?

The stage always remained the same.

The star always found its target; a small heavenly body distances away. Close enough to see, impossible to ride to. He could barely see it before, now all he saw was a small red dot. A small twinkle disturbed that dreadful colour.

He felt a small insistance in his pocket. He doesn't remember his hands nor his clothes, but he knows its there. He takes out the source. A small golden locket inscribed with the words of a language long gone from this world. Curiousity beckoned him. He's seen this before, he no long wished it, he wants to stay longer and see the end of the dance. Did it end, or did it become something far grander than any known man could create. Was the song simply an interlude for a grandiose compliation of heavenly bodies and cosmic pieces brought together to spread their message to any who'd hear it? The Voyeur will never know, not tonight.

The locket opened up and the sun came back.

This night was different. The moon shrouded and no light left. The maidens, the stars, the red spot; gone. All that was left was a thick layer of darkness coated with the smell of boiling hot iron and vegatables lingering around him. There are steels bands around his ankles and his forearms. Surprisingly he couldn't break out of them. Something's wrong. He didn't know where he was. He doesn't remember anything besides that small sting on his neck.

He is alone with his thoughts once more.

 _What could've done that? Who could've?_

-Then-

*BANG! BANG! BANG!*

"JAEGER, ARLERT! OPEN UP!"

Armin groaned a little bit before getting out of his bed. He didn't bother looking at his roommate, probably hungover from the night before. "I'm awake, Captain Levi!" Armin answered, leaping towards the door. He knew this was coming, a shindig like that would only end with this. Levi stood before him, irritated and cranky, with several brooms and mops behind him.

"Good, one of you's good for something. The mess hall is a complete disaster and..." Levi stops his irate command before looking behind Armin, never changing his expression but he could tell he saw something he didn't like or didn't expect. "Arlert?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"When you returned to the barracks last night, did Yaeger come back with you?"

"No, sir, I went to sleep early."

"I can tell, you don't smell like shit." It's true, he didn't bother partaking like the rest of his comrades, not so much because he didn't want to get drunk, but he also didn't want any of Connie's "secret ingredient" in any of his drinks. Plus he didn't want to forget any of the mishaps. He'll have to write them down later for safekeeping or for favours. "So on the way to the door, you didn't notice anything out-of-place?"

"No, sir." Armin is crossed between satisfying his curiousity or keeping discipline. Only one of those can end with a strike to the body.

"Tch, then you're less attentive than I thought. You may look now."

Armin turned around and noticed an unusual sight. A pained Eren, holding his head in agony under the covers with a peacefully immobile Mikasa next to him. "Can someone tell Connie to stop playing?" He groaned in his semi-slumber, turning to his side.

"I'm in charge of a bunch of freaks." Levi commented under his breath. "Get them up and start cleaning the Mess. Breakfast is in 30, so I suggest you get started."

"Yes, Captain!" Armin declared before turning around and shaking his friends up from bed.

Eren groggily woke up and Mikasa followed suite, looking no worse for ware. "Armin, what's going on?"

"We got to get ready. Captain Levi wants us up!"

"Sure, but only if you stop grabbing my arm."

"That's not me."

Eren looked next to him and noticed his sister embarrased, flawlessly front rolled off the bed, quickly on her feet, and getting her uniform from the floor. "What the hell, Mikasa!?"

"You were drunk, I needed to make sure you returned to your room."

"You didn't need to sleep with me! I'm not a baby!"

"I know that, I needed to be sure you went to sleep."

"Of course I would! Worse that could happen was I puke all over the floor. Did I do that!?"

Armin laughed as he got his uniform hung from his closet as the two began arguing. Each of the bunks are two to a room considering the amounts of Corps members constantly changing from time-to-time. Only the vets could be given their own quarters. "I'll just let myself out." No one heard him. He left the room and grabbed one of the mops before turning towards Sasha and Connie who were already on their way to the Mess. Sasha commented as soon as she was in earshot of the argument. "That's where she was."

"Lover's spat?" Connie asked Armin, who scratched his head. He couldn't say no.

-,/,/,/,/,/,/,/,/,/,/

Cleaning up the Mess Hall was an uphill battle. None of the benches or stands were damaged besides some alcohol stains but there was a small imprint all over the floor where a table should've been, though with a few cracks of a few walls and blood. Several kegs still leaked and somehow one of them hung above the chandilier. Glass decorated the floor and terribly written cards. No one took credit for that. Pieces of meat had been flown around the walls and floor and several jackets nailed to the corners of the walls, stained with meat and liquor with darts flung against the Scout's symbol, attempting to hit the wings. They weren't sure how but a horse found its way inside the Mess with gas tanks hooked up to its legs with a piece of wood hung around its neck written "Call me Jean" imprinted on it.

Needless to say a fight nearly broke out in the first minute of the cleaning.

Somehow the hungover headache-riddled group managed to clean-up the hall before breakfast had been finished with the help of an all-too eager Levi whipping several members of his Corps and the few people of bountiful mentality working away. Once they finished, every last junior member of the Corps lined up with mops and brooms on hand to await Levi's orders.

"Alright, dipshits, you got breakfast. After that, report to the forest for training. There will be an expedition to reclaim Maria soon and I don't want a bunch of drunken bastards ruining our big plan. Dismissed!"

The groups made their way to the cleaned up benches, eating whatever they could, though not being the dishes of the day before. Connie talked to Sasha about the bet they undertook, Jean and the new recuits, Marlowe and Hitch, had a conversation about their fight and joining the Corps from the MPs, and Eren, surprisingly, was silent and without Mikasa.

"Something wrong, Eren?"

"Nothing, just, you know, she's usually here by now."

"You two didn't make up?"

"I thought we did. That's usually how it is between us: she gets all motherly, I get mad, and that's it. She sits next to me and not wherever she is."

Eren began to slouch, thinking hard about what had happened as if the answer was blocked by a walled force enforced by a pounding. "Do you think she's finally pissed at me?"

"It's not like you to wonder about your actions." Armin pointed out, surprised by him.

"Just answer me."

"Honestly, I think this goes deeper than just mothering you."

He fixed his posture, scrunching his face in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Well have you noticed how last night she asked you to lift that cargo of meat, something she could easily drag herself?" Eren nodded, though vaguely for he was preoccupied with Jean over something he doesn't remember. "And how she insisted this morning she wanted to sleep with you to make sure you were alright?"

"Yeah, what the hell, right? She's too attached to me! I can take care of myself without her constant protection. Besides shouldn't it be me keeping her safe?"

"Who's to say you haven't?"

Armin was right after all, and Eren knew that. He did keep her safe from those traffickers so many years ago and he did protect her from those Titans that could've killed them, though he also remembers how she seemed resigned to death and was about to do something. He told this part to Armin and asked for his input.

"You never brought this up before."

"I never thought it was important to bring up. I told her I'd wrap that scarf around her as much as she wanted and I did that coordinate thing. What of it?"

"Maybe it means something greater to her." Armin leaned closer to Eren, in hopes that none of the party would make comment to them. "After training today, I want you to take her somewhere private and ask her about her feelings, ask her about that day. She deserves that much."

"You sure she won't just try to ignore me?"

"She's never ignored you before. She'll listen, all you need to do is do the same. Just listen to her."

"Alright, I can do that but Armin." His posture changed to an approaching figure behind Armin. He groaned with worry, all excitement drained from his pores.

"What?"

"I think I need to go."

"Actually," Armin turned around to find Hange's assistant, Moblit, standing before him, his skin sunken in as if he too joined in the festivities of last night. "I was hoping Armin could talk to me for a second."

Eren let out a sigh of relief, but also a worrisome thought. _What would Hanji want with Armin?_ He nodded and tried to eat, already hearing Mikasa tell him he needs to eat more. Somehow training felt a whole lot easier.

Meanwhile Armin followed Moblit outside the Mess closer to the Barracks. He put his hood up trying to block out the light. Armin looked confused.

"Sorry, sensitive eyes."

"Is there something wrong, sir?"

Moblit looked around the area, senseing nothing with a pair of glasses walking around, he deemed it safe to talk. "Okay, Armin, how do you feel about Hanji?"

Armin was taken by the question. "Hange? She's a little neurotic but brillant. I don't think I've followed under her as far as I can remember." He's heard many-a story about the infamous insanity of Hanji's instrumentations: from her absurd attachment to being in bite range with a Titan to fascination of the archiac histories of man, she desired knowledge; gross and great. Not like Armin was going to tell Moblit that.

"A little neurotic..." He mouthed to himself before responding, "did Eren ever mention any of her experiments?"

"Not too much. Said she wanted him to do simple commands." And nothing else.

"Okay, that's all I needed to hear."

"Am I dismissed, sir?"

"No, not yet, just I'm not sure how I should put this..." Moblit took a minute to think before he could respond. "If you could do anything it took to make sure humanity defeats the Titans once and for all, would you risk your body to do it?" In retrospect, it felt like a stupid question to ask considering what Corps they're in.

"Yes, sir."

"What if I told you Hanji may have found a way to mix human and Titan DNA in such a way that the result won't create a shifter but something greater instead, like a superman or something?"

"What?"

Moblit grew more nervous as he continued. "And that the only DNA that could mix perfectly was yours, would you be willing to undergo an extremely experimental procedure for the sake of humanity?"

"With all due respect, what are you trying to ask me?"

"Screw it, Armin Arlert, would you be willing to undergo a experiment to become the world's first superhuman?"

Armin couldn't begin to wonder at what a "superhuman" would entail, he figured the closest thing to that, barring the Shifters, were Mikasa or Levi considering the physical abilities of the two. "Why me, why not Eren or Mikasa or Levi?"

"She tried their DNA but nothing. Only yours perfectly synched."

"W-what would I have to do?"

"Right now, nothing. We're doing trial phases first to make sure everything works. Tomorrow, and I don't know when don't quote me, she'll want you in the R&D wing for procedure." Mobilt massaged his head first before continuing. "Look, she didn't ask me to talk to you, I'm just letting you know now that one of us might ask and you know how Hange is with stuff like this."

"B-but why now?" Armin was taken back by everything. Him: a superhuman, a subject of an experiment that could humanity beyond its limits.

"Listen I don't wanna take you away from breakfast anymore than I have. Just talk among your friends, maybe Levi, and tomorrow I will try to come to you for an answer. I just wanted to run it by you, okay? If you excuse me," his eyes met the sun and reciprocated a harsh feeling of pain, "I need go somewhere dark."

Instead of inquiring about Mobilt's hangover, Armin was slackjawed by the offer given to him: a guinea pig for an experiment that could change the face of humanity. Would he be willing to do that; alter his body in a way that could prove indicpherable from his normal form. Of course he would still be human but the intrinsic ramifications of it. He was willing. He may need to consult his fellow soldiers on it.

"Oi, Arlert, get your ass to the forest pronto." Suppose he won't be finishing breakfast today.

-/././././.././././

A hard day of training followed suit after breakfast. First the Corps had to endure a grueling obstacle course using ODMG for what felt like miles & miles, attacking several Titan dummies against the other Corps member. For those who didn't make the top three, they had to race through the forest again from one end to the other without the help of the gear. The top three were Mikasa, Sasha, and Connie. Turned out Connie was too distracted with all the customers to really get started on the binging while Sasha was much more focused on the magnificence of marionated meat. I don't think Mikasa requires an explanation. Thus the rest raced through miles of unpaved forest, leaping across fallen bark, shimming through large plants the size of 5 metres, and avoiding mammals that may linger through there. No sense disturbing a herd of deer over the possibility of winning a race. Poor Hitch had to learn that lesson well.

Then hand-to-hand training commenced, the more hungover members were not prepared for back-to-back training like this, heads pounding and their reflexes disoriented. Armin wishes he had that same excuse. Furthermore, he wishes he got paired up with Mikasa or Eren, but Jean? Though they had become fair friends over the years and willing debate rivals, combat was something else. Armin knew what to do in preparation of a scuffle in theory: an uppercut there, duck and perform a strike to the ribs. A high kick, go for the crotch. A grab, go around and suplex them. Fights are not for the theoretical and Jean had hyponitised himself with a simple trigger taught to him by Shadis: think of what pisses you off the most and impose it on your enemy, the rest will take care of itself.

As far as Armin knows, he's Eren.

He thought of all the ways to defend himself, but the reflexes just could not click in his body. He only succeeded in blocking a few jabs, but he was taken down by a quick strike followed by a fireman's carry. Luckily for Armin, Jean didn't have the rage of his friend, and knew when his opponent has been beaten. Instead of a finishing blow, he extended a hand to which Armin accepted.

"You okay, Armin? Sorry if I was rough."

"It's my fault for not keeping up my guard." Armin responded with several heavy breaths. In a real life no one's going to let him rest. Somehow Jean remained in good shape. The prone bloody drunken Jean was a time ago.

"You look beat, care to rest before another round?"

That feeling again. Armin didn't need to look at Eren and Mikasa dueling (he assumed they were dueling) to know they would have a legend for the ages. Sure, Mikasa would offer a moment to train Eren in certain moves, but Eren would just tell her the same ol'story. His mind went back to the battle with the MPs, when he shot an MP gunning for Jean. What if he didn't have a ready pistol? What if the MP was coming with a knife? These were the moments he had to be prepared for.

Eren had endurance and Mikasa had strength. He, himself, had neither. He raised his hands in a boxer stance and looked at Jean, trying to stifle the heavy breathing through will. He had the brains, and he'll be damned sure he had the gusto too, if nothing else.

"I can do this all day."

Jean prepared his stance, a Vale Tudo one; raising his arm about to the center of his chest, stepping to the side grinning at his opponent. It almost looked lazy like he's doing an impression of a stance. That's the trick. "Whatever you say."

The both walked towards each other keeping their defences up; a single risky move could mean the end for the other if it works. Armin gets in close, he thinks about Jean's style. It guards the chest and bottom half but not the upper. A fake-out jab, a quick transition and a southpaw haymaker could seal the deal if it worked.

He attempted, the fake-out immediately countered by over the shoulder throw. Before, he could clock him in mid-air, a knee to the derriere, a small leap to the side for a strike to the gut. He tried the riskiest move: he took the throw and attempted a front-flip over Jean's bent over body but to no avail. He took a fall to the ground. Immediately he sat up and used a back roll kick to strike Jean's head.

He needed to stop thinking for this moment. He had to. He got himself up, still huffing. Fists in the air. Jean recovered, grinning through the pain. _Time to get angry._ Jean thought to himself.

Jean took the moment to quickly meditate on his rage, risking that Armin wouldn't run at him while his eyes closed. He saw the visions of all his anger: the humiliation of being thrown around during basic training, insulted, embarrased. How much he would love to fight him in an official duel. The icing on the cake to truly gain that indigination poured over. A pyramid of rage and hate built in the precipice of his mind headed at the top by him: Yeager. Armin became Eren once more. He opened his eyes again and saw him throw another jab.

Jean ducked and threw a side kick. It was caught stiffly with one hand and countered with a jab to the gut, he blew out in reaction. Jean lept to lift the other leg up, performing an enzugiri; a roundhouse kick to his cranium which found its target.

The two men crawled on the ground before getting themselves back and readying their stances. Armin took a risk and lept, rearing his fist out for Jean only to ignore Jean grabbing his leg like a tentacle from a Penny Dreadful horror story. The legs wrapped around Armin's knee, and he ate the dirt and sand as his face hits the earth.

Disoriented but not reeling, he turned around and tried kicking Jean before he could perform a kneebar; as much as he wanted to prove to himself he could be physically useful, he wouldn't risk an injury before the Corps biggest moment of victory.

Armin grabbed fruitlessly to whatever he could to keep himself at his position. If he turned around, it's over. He saw enough to see Jean's upper body trying desperately to move around, his face contorting with rage. Another risk: he turned enough to manuever his kicks to Jean. The first misses, the second gives his rib momentum, the third meets its target, the fourth releases him.

Armin doesn't give Jean the opportunity to get back up. Jean still reeling, a waistlock greets him. Armin tries to lift him only to be meet with an elbow to the face. His grip loosens. Jean turns around and performs a front facelock, he scissors his waists and pulls on Armin's neck.

Armin can't breath. He tries to think of a way to get himself back up. He needs to get his legs up and stand. Jean is heavy. Lifting him won't work. He will not surrender. Armin tries one more big risk. He places his hands on the ground and flips over Jean. Jean flips too, the grip just as strong but the pulls not as harsh; gravity is no friend.

Armin uses his new found position to begin striking Jean's face with varying degrees. The grip stills goes. Jean leans to the side taking Armin with him. He continues to strike against Jean. He can feel it though, his consciousness wavering out. The oxygen ceasing to reach his lungs. His throat cut-off. He can no longer think. His survival instinct has taken over. He has no more choices.

He taps on Jean's leg and Jean releases. Armin is once again Armin, taking in heavy breaths and sweating profusely.

"Are you insane?" Jean yelled. "You should've tapped the minute I had you in the choke." Armin still reeling from his duel, placed his hand towards his now irritated neck and coughed.

"I-it's nuf-fing." Jean grabbed some water near his circle and gave it to him. He poured it down and Jean, worried, sat down to his level whilst the rest continued their duels.

"If you were trying to prove something, you don't need to. You've long done it already."

"I don't know that." He spoke, "I want to do more, I know I can do more." Armin didn't know what compelled him to ask the next question to Jean, likely the lack of attendence from Eren and Mikasa nor Connie's ability to have this kind of conversation or Sasha for that matter. He needed to let someone know. "Jean, if you were given the opportunity to become more, more for the sake of humanity even if it meant risking your life, would you do it?"

Jean was puzzled by this question. "Was that what this fight was all about? Finding the answer to that?" Armin shook his head.

"The fight was all it was: a fight and nothing more." He convinced him; it sort of was. He needed to know if did need it.

"I suppose so. If I knew I could keep my humanity in the process and still win the day, I would. i wouldn't risk becoming a Shifter though. We are 4-1 in terms of those guys if you get me." Jean focused on Armin then. "You're not a Shifter, are you?"

Armin shook his head. "I'd think I'd know by now."

"Eren didn't til after graduation, maybe you're a late bloomer."

Armin chuckled. "Maybe."

A horn sounded off. "Training is over! Get to dinner, dismissed!"

"Sounds good, I'm starving." Jean offered to bring Armin up. Armin slapped away the hand, not out of disrespect; out of fortitude as if to say "I can." Armin, coughing still, stood up one after the other. He walked with Jean to the Mess, conversing with each other about something in particular, though Armin couldn't be bothered to remember what, responding with a measure of "yeah's" and nods. He remembered how Mobilt told him the procedure wouldn't turn him into a monster, but a Superhuman; to assume augmented abilities. Eren had sacrificed himself for something much worse in comparison to the rest. It would be another chip on the specie's shoulder after all. He knew his answer.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

-Elsewhere-

On a seculded part of the camp, somewhere between the two barracks that seperated the genders, snuck off from the hand-to-hand training, did two siblings conspire in secret, though it was no secret against others, but between each other.

"Eren, what is this about? You shouldn't skip training." And already Eren was at a loss of words. This whole feelings thing was alien territory for the guy whose default tone is intense. His thoughts had to skip away from Titans, at least for now, and focus on the girl before him.

He tried to think back to what Armin requested. _Ask about her feelings._

"So...how do you feel?"

"I feel confused."

"Dammit, that didn't help at all." Eren whispered to himself.

"Help with what? Eren just tell me what's going on."

"Don't rush me!" Mikasa looked down for a moment, she didn't want to anger him, but she couldn't help but get annoyed whenever he got like this for what appears to be no reason. _Try thinking about her._ He did it in the only way he knew how: bluntness.

"Fine, is there something up? You sleep in my bed, you need my help with something you can easily do, and remember when we almost died and you were about to..." Eren then noticed something he swore he never did before: Mikasa blushing. It somehow suited her, and he couldn't figure out why. Eren continued to speak, slowly with over growing, and further regretting, wonder.

"What were you about to do when we were surronded?"

"D-do you want to know?" Her blush intensified, and he still didn't understand.

"Yes. I would like to know."

"Are you sure?" There was a restraint in her that said no but a large push, screaming at her "for the love of all things beautiful and hideous, just do it!"

"Yes, yes! Just let me know what's going on." Within a moment's notice, she hooked him by her arms and planted one on him, quick and soft with care hiding the surpressed emotions she hid for so long. For the first time in a long time, she had been the happiest she's ever been. Eren on the other hand was far too flaubergasted to think. Was..was this what she was feeling for so long, was this what she was doing? It wasn't the attachment of a mother to her child, nor an elder sister to her baby brother, but a lover to her mate that kept her going.

"That day, I was scared" she spoke to his chest "scared we would never have this moment. I would never be able to show you how I feel. I always thought you would get angry with me. I should've known. You just didn't know it. I hoped one day you would."

"Angry with you?" He looked down to her face, somewhere in a state of happiness and melancholy. She kept her face tight to him, he could feel wetness on his shirt. "Why would I be angry with you?"

"You always tell me to stop protecting you, you always tell me you're not my sister." Eren finally noticed how much he had been hurting her, the words he said and the things he's done, but this, he wasn't sure how he could take this. "But I will never stop being grateful to you."

Eren grabbed her shoulders and motioned her forward to look her in the eyes. "You're right, you're not my sister." She felt a sting in her heart, her head looked down. He lifted her face up.

"But you and I; we are family."

"I love you." She responded, a smile moved the tears down. She tried to go for another kiss, but stopped by him. As much as he wanted to do the same, some part of him telling him to take her by the hand and be there for her, there was doubt on his mind as if he wasn't sure what he was doing. This wasn't a black and white moment: enemy, must kill. This was a life he cherished above all else and needed to be sure what he was doing was the right thing to do.

"I never thought about any of this before, and I never ever thought this would ever happen. For as long as I can remember, I thought about killing those damned monsters, and nothing else, especially how you feel. I am sorry for that." Mikasa nodded, the tears continued down her eyes and she tried to keep her composure. He hugged her again. "Can I think about my feelings first? I want to make sure I love you the same way you love me. Can I do that?"

The horn sounded off. Mikasa nodded. He did love her, she finally heard it. That's all she needed.

"Thanks."

"We should go." Mikasa tried to speak, the emotion exploding out of her like a firecracker covered in gas, burning everywhere around it. Eren was about to leave, but he knew better now. He listens to how she feels, he feels the sparks. He continues to hold her, protecting her from the world as he feels he should.

"No." He tells her. "Not until you are ready." Mikasa lets go, and kneels along with him, embracing him as she weeps, tears of joy and tears of relief. She's thankful now more than ever, for it is no sure promise, at least now she can live without regrets.

NOTE: So yeah, you may have noticed a trend with this story if you're following along. Now, unless pointed out, is where the Captain is taken somewhere he's not sure. Then leads up to that event while elsewhere is all about building the universe. It would be quite boring if the entire story just followed a certain group of characters, source and OC, right?

As for the Elsewhere, yeah I am not great at romances hence why I don't throw my hat into that ring. With Mikasa, I imagine she'd jump right in to the idea of a romance with her saviour, but Eren is a whole nother story; his mindset is only killing the Titans for pretty much most of his life at this point, the idea of romance with anyone much less her is foreign soil to him. He would need time to think about it, get his feelings straightened out before he's willing to take that kind of plunge with someone he's known all his life. That's just how I see it. With they? I suppose, for the sake of this story, there's only one way to find out.


End file.
